Exulansis
by Qu33nbeee
Summary: He just wanted people to see him as a guy. It's not his fault that becoming an evil henchman for Paris's most wanted was the only thing that seemed to work. He's doing what he needs to survive in this day and age. (Only the first 3 chapters will be posted here, the rest is on my ao3, same title, my username is Dollblood)
1. His Future Drip Dripping Down the Drain

There is a time and place to take a nap. The middle of an Akuma attack is neither of these.

Opia Belmonte was desperately trying to wake his lab partner, Veronica, from her weird sleep schedule before the monster could reach their classroom so they could properly hide, but it wasn't doing much good. Neither of Paris's favorite superheroes had shown up, and he was really questioning their timing with most other attacks. Was every other time just a fluke? He couldn't dwell on that, though. Veronica had to move and hopefully not knock over their tube of calcium hydroxide on the way. She'd kill him, he was sure, if she got something dangerous on her while passed out.

The slamming of a door down the hall made him more desperate, and in a burst of adrenaline, grabbed Veronica around her waist and dragged her down to the ground. Between two cabinets on the floor of a Chem lab was not the safest place to hide, but he didn't know where else to go. Maybe listening to music during a lab when his lab partner was narcoleptic was a bad idea. It's an easy way to miss directions, at least.

The door burst open, and he held tightly to Veronica. If anything, she could be a human shield.

"Ms. Opia Belmonte?" A small voice asked, and he cringed before peaking out from behind the cabinets.

Ladybug was standing in the doorway, looking around. He waved to get her attention.

"Oh! Your teacher asked me to find you! She said she must've missed you while evacuating. It's best if you come out now, school will be postponed until tomorrow for everyone to recover."

"Okay, can you help me with my lab partner? She's asleep." He struggled to stand and hold Veronica at the same time. Ladybug rushed over and carried half her weight to help him out of the classroom.

* * *

The akuma had been a student from another class down. He didn't know them, but apparently, they had quite a grudge against their Literature teacher. The day after the attack, they weren't in school.

Protocol called for all akumatized civilians to go through police screening and a therapist session. If anything, the social sciences had become a top career to go into in Paris, France.

It didn't help Opia with his problem, though.

A new school year, a new classroom, and yet, still the same old pronouns.

He thought Spain was bad with misgendering? At least he had a few friends who saw him as another guy. So far, France was a big disappointment.

The superheroes were cool, but if they weren't spouting equal rights as well as crime-fighting? Forget it.

Opia snapped the strap of his binder against his shoulder as he walked across a bridge. He was pretty sure it had a lot of meaning to some people. There were locks covering the railing. At this point, he couldn't really care less. Other people didn't matter if they didn't care about how to address him.

He sat down and ran his hands through his light brown hair. Maybe he was overreacting.

Some middle-schoolers ran by, laughing and jumping around as they teased each other, and he smiled. Kids were pretty great, at least. Big open eyes, taking in the world for the first time, it was a time like that when he found out who he was. It was a different time, a different place.

The locks on the bridge railing dug into his back as he sat up straight, an idea coming to his mind. An idea like this was something he could get behind. He snapped his binder strap against his shoulder and stood up again. There was a volunteer sign-up in his high school activities office, hopefully they were still open. If not, he had a plan for tomorrow.

* * *

They were open. There weren't a lot of volunteering opportunities at the time, but there were some, and there was the one that really mattered.

Every year, he remembered a few volunteer high-schoolers would go to various junior high schools to mentor a class or two.

There were five openings left, out of seven.

When Opia left the office that day, there were four left.


	2. There's A Million things I Haven't Done

He got let out of his science class early for the volunteer position. No more sleepy lab partner, but enough time in there to learn what to look up in the book at home. Enough time to take a test or quiz, if need be.

From one Chem class to a physical science class he went.

The middle schoolers were adorable, all so much smaller than him. When he and the other high schoolers came to their campus, most of them gawked. They weren't used to the big kids, it seemed. Opia smiled at all the kids they passed on their way to the Dean's office, to be assigned a class.

The dean was... Well he was _someone_. That could be said. Right off the bat, he mispronounced a tall, black girl's name.

"Ms. Man-grey?"

"It's Mangry, sir. Short for Mangrove, like the tree."

"Yes, yes. Man-grey. That's what I said. You will work with Mr. Nolan's Gym class. Here is your pass and the room number." He distractedly gave her two pieces of paper as he read through a binder. He waved for the next person, and continued in a similar form up till Opia came forward.

"Ms. Opia?"

"Mr, sir."

"I'm sorry?"

"Sir, I prefer male pronouns. I am trans."

The dean looked him up and down, sniffed, then looked back at his binder.

"Here's your pass and room number. Good luck _sir._ "

The contempt in his voice was clear, but Opia was fairly used to it. Adults didn't like to be corrected.

* * *

The class was on the second story, near the office. Opia knocked on the door hesitantly, and a lovely red headed woman answered.

"Ah, um, ma'am, my name is Opia Belmonte, I'm a volunteer high school student to help with your class."

Her eyes lit up and she held her hand out.

"How wonderful! Thank you for your help!" She said, shaking his hand, then turned abruptly and addressed the class. "Class, this is Opia Belmonte, she is here and a volunteer to help our class."

"Ah, um, ma'am? I am a boy." He corrected her, but she continued on anyways, as if she hadn't heard him.

"Everyone, please welcome her!"

The class gave a monotonous "hello" to him, and his heart sank. The teacher wasn't even giving him the time of day.

He sat at a chair at the back of class and watched her teach. She clearly didn't need any help, but some of the kids did seem a bit rowdy. Or, at least, distractable.

One boy near the back, closer to Opia, was drawing throughout the whole class. One of the drawings looked quite a bit like a girl closer to the front.

Ah, an artist and his muse.

There wasn't anything for him to do, so listening to a few songs wouldn't hurt, would it? He'd already learned all of this, anyways. He hummed quietly to a musical's soundtrack, and glazed over as the teacher taught the class about hydrogen bonds.

What seemed like a few minutes later, he was nearing the end of his playlist and a bell rang to signal the end of the day. The students were packing up to leave and Opia stood and stretched.

Time sure flies when you listen to historical raps.

The artist kid was standing up, so he walked over and patted the kid on the shoulder. The kid jumped and turned to him nervously.

"Y-yeah?"

"I saw you drawing earlier," Opia glanced at his bag, where some pages with doodles threatened to escape. The kid looked more nervous.

"I think you're an awesome artist. You're really good."

Poor kid looked about ready to piss his pants until he heard the compliment.

"O-oh... Thank you! You're really nice, Ms. Belmonte!"

"Ah." He grimaced. "Yeah. No problem."

* * *

Opia grumbled as he walked across that same bridge from before. Some of the looser locks clinked against the railing in the wind that was picking up.

What a day. He went to that volunteer thing to open younger kids' minds to the Trans community, but he couldn't even get a word in otherwise. This was a downward slope, and the sides were far too slick to crawl back up.

He snapped the strap of his binder angrily as he leaned against the railing. There really wasn't anything he could do.

Nothing.

He was... Nothing.

He could just...

Become...

Nothing.

He didn't realize he had climbed up onto the railings of the bridge, perched, leaning forward until someone behind him screamed. The unexpected sound and a burst of wind pushed him forward, and he fell.

Heh.

Well, he would've anyways.

There wasn't much he could do here dead or alive.

A flash of black and purple raced across his vision as he fell, closer and closer to the cold water below, and there was an odd tingle on his shoulder.

He blacked out before he hit the water.

* * *

Dysphoria groaned as he stretched.

 _"Ah... My apologies, I'm afraid I had to give you power without your consent. You were not exactly in a position to give it, and I didn't want you to die."_

What?

He looked around, but there was no one else around him at twenty feet up in the air.

Wait, what?

He looked down, passed his elfish-looking green shoes, to a crowd of people staring up at him from a bridge.

Why was he wearing those shoes? Dear god he would never wear shoes that curled in normally.

"Oh my god."

 _"Dysphoria, I am Hawkmoth. I gave you power so that you could help me with a... Project of mine."_

One of the people in the crowd below pointed up at him and shouted, "look! He's woken up!" Another wondered, quite loudly, "I wonder why he's different from the other Akumas?"

 _"I gave you the power to do to people, what they do to you, in exchange for... Dysphoria, do you hear me?"_

"You want the miraculous from ladybug and chat noir?"

Dysphoria was ecstatic. Staring down at the crowd, where the people were calling him a _him_. Sweet mother Mary, all it took was him turning evil? Wearing some hideous clothes and... Did he have wings? It sure as hell felt like it. His binder was on the outside of his body, now, which was odd. But it also seemed to have become an intricate plate of armor.

He was a butterfly knight. Nice.

 _"Ah... Yes. I require them in order-"_

"I'll get those for you now, then."

 _"I- what? Boy, don't you wish to-"_

"Buddy!" Dysphoria laughed, even though he was so close to tears. "All I've wanted was for people to see me as male! This is the single best day of my _life_!"

" _Oh. I... See? I apologize, although maybe I shouldn't. I didn't see you as anything else when I chose you."_

"That just makes it better, oh my god."

He flew over the city, looking for the superheroes everyone loved, but saw no trace of them. Maybe he had to lure them out a bit. He flew closer to people, and, with the instinctual motion of shooting his finger like a gun, he released an orange burst at a random person. They immediately began dry heaving and scratching at their chest.

Huh.

He could remember days where he had woken up exactly like that.

He looked at his hand, and tried to remember what Hawkmoth said he did.

 _You will do to people what they do to you._

His name is dysphoria.

Oh.

He quickly pointed at another citizen and whispered, "Bang."

Another burst of orange exploded from his finger tip, and his victim stood stock still, staring into the distance, looking to be going into some form of shock. The next had the symptoms as the first.

It seemed as if his attacks switched between "feel disgusting in your own skin" and "debilitating existential despair."

Two more people were down when a flash of black and red graced him with her presence. He grinned and turned to Ladybug.

"Stop it right now! What are you even trying to do?" She yelled.

"Finally here to join my party? It's about time! Where is your partner? I do hope he's not taking a sick day."

"I am feline fine, evil-doer." Chat said from the side, where he was walking up calmly. "Now, are we gonna do this the hard way or the easy way?"

"Depends, which way ends up with those miraculous in my hands?"

Ladybug and Chat Noir shared a look, and looked him over again. Lady's gaze lingered just passed his shoulder, where his wings were visible.

"Are... You the real Hawkmoth? No Akuma has directly wanted them before. Not... Like this."

She seemed overly concerned, and Dysphoria laughed.

"No! I'm not my _boss_! The name's Dysphoria! But I'm doing a job here, and to do it, I'm gonna need those miraculous."

"You can't have them! No way!" Chat yelled with a grimace.

"Well I didn't expect it to be easy." Dysphoria shrugged. "But I will get those pretty little things."

He floated up a bit, pointed his finger gun at Chat, and fired away one of his blasts. Chat rolled out of the way, missing the attack for the most part, except his foot. When he stood again, he stumbled and looked down at his foot in disgust.

"What _is_ that?" He asked with a bit of a gag.

"Chat, that's your foot." Ladybug said slowly, teasingly.

"My foot? Christ, that's gross."

"Ok, what did you do?" Ladybug asked Dysphoria, who only laughed. He leaned back and kicked his feet in the air.

"Oooh! He should see his face! Look at how disgusted he is with himself! Hey! Chat! How's your foot?"

Chat flinched back and hissed at him, pointedly ignoring his own foot.

"Seriously! What did you do?"

"Well you see, Lady Luck," Dysphoria said as he walked in circles above her. If he had a cane, he would've been twirling it. "There is such a thing called body dysphoria. Different people react to it in different ways, but the easiest way to describe it, is being uncomfortable with your own body. Trans* folk generally have it. Imagine not feeling comfortable in your own skin, little bug. Just. Imagine it." He stopped and tapped his chin in thought, glancing down at the superhero slyly.

"Actually, you don't have to imagine it, I can give you front row seat to the whole experience!"

He turned to her quickly and shot one of his blasts at her, but she seemed to have anticipated it from all his monologuing. Maybe he was falling into classic villain archetypes too easily. Either way, she dodged him and jumped away to a safer distance. Chat followed her slower, as he was still dealing with an uncooperative foot.

She glared up at him, her eyes darting back and forth, trying to make a plan of attack as Dysphoria laughed down at them. He really didn't expect Ladybug to shout "Lucky Charm!" And throw her yo-yo above her head, completely missing him.

"Wait, what are you..." He stopped laughing and watched her curiously. She was holding a pair of red and black polka dotted idea seemed to form for her, as she turned to Chat and began signaling to him, trying to get him to stop messing with his foot.

Dysphoria was aware of what happened to Akumas when ladybug had an idea. He wasn't stupid. And that's why he quickly turned tail and ran (or flew) away from the two.

" _What are you doing, Dysphoria? Get their miraculous!"_

"Easy for you to say, boss, don't you know what happens to your workers when Ladybug gets her little power up thing? If I stuck around, I'd be toast. Here's to hoping she'll run out of power before she catches me."

Hawkmoth didn't answer, but Dysphoria hoped it was because he thought he was the smartest henchman he'd had yet.

"Not so fast, butterfly!" Ladybug shouted at him. She was running along beneath him, and held onto Chat's pole weapon.

"Uh, actually, the name's Dysphoria! You oughta learn your enemy's names!"

He suddenly had the air knocked out of him as a weight came down on him from above. Chat had somehow made his way onto the rooftops, and jumped onto his back. He managed to stay airborne, but was significantly lower to the ground, and had to now fight a leather clad cat boy.

"Give up!" Chat hissed as he covered Dysphoria's eyes. Honestly, the guy was more of a nuisance than a real threat.

"No way!" He responded, grabbing Chat's hands and moving them away from his face so he could see.

And see he did. A face full of a black and green ring, that is. He smirked as his hand slid down to Chat's fingers, he got his fingers on the metal; warmed from the sun and body heat. In the back of his head, he could hear Hawkmoth cheering.

Then his chest was hit with a pressure akin to a large bullet, and he toppled to the ground. Chat rolled a ways away, mostly unhurt, though looking a little scared at how close Dysphoria had gotten to his ring. Ladybug walked up and put her foot on Dysphoria's chest, though he was sure he wasn't going anywhere. There was a good chance he was concussed, at best. He couldn't see where ladybug's spots started or stopped. And unless someone had a very obnoxious ringtone, he was sure the world was not supposed to be ringing like that. How far did he fall? Fifteen feet? At least. Plus all that momentum from flying. He should learn how to fall.

Oh.

Ladybug just cut through his binder. Apparently the straps weren't so armor-y. A little black and purple butterfly flew out of it, and she captured it in what would have been an impressive show of spinning, had he not been feeling especially dizzy and nauseous.

A tingle went through his whole body and he just managed to turn himself over onto his stomach so he could retch onto the street. When he looked up, ladybug and Char Noir were looking down at him in shock.

"Y-you never seen a guy puke before?" He hissed, head racked with pain as he spoke. Oh boy. He definitely hit something hard.

"Ms. Opia?" Ladybug whispered. He looked down at himself and saw he was in his previous clothes, and sighed.

"Wow, I've never seen Hawkmoth turn someone into the opposite sex before." Chat said. "What a jerk."

Opia sighed and groaned.

"Call the paramedics, please..." He pleaded.

"What? You're really hurt?" Ladybug asked, kneeling down next to him. "How? I used my powers?"

"You dropped me fifteen feet in the air, kid, ain't no powers gonna reverse broken ribs and brain damage. You'd be world famous by now if that's the case."

"My lady, let me take care of the patient. Your time is almost up." Chat said. Ladybug lightly touched her earring, which Opia still eyed longingly, though neither hero noticed.

"You're right. You call an ambulance and the police. I'll be in touch with you later." She got up and hopped away somewhere. Opia didn't care to watch her leave, rather he closed his eyes and wished for death instead of the pain in his head, chest, and low throbbing in his back.

"Hey, Opia." Chat said idly. He was using his weapon as a phone, hopefully calling the paramedics. "The hospital wants to know what you're experiencing, so they know what they're dealing with."

"Mmmm..." He groaned, throwing his head to the side to try to relieve some pressure in his head. "Pain."

Chat chuckled. Opia would have frowned if he wasn't already. That definitely wasn't a joke.

"They'll be here soon. Said to keep you awake. You wanna hear some jokes?"

Opia sighed and stared at the sky to try to have an out of body experience. Anywhere was better than here, with the greatest misgendering hero Paris has ever known.


	3. But Just You Wait

"Have you ever had any suicidal thoughts or actions?"

"Yes."

"For how long?"

"...years? I don't remember ever _not_ wanting to die."

"Is this what triggered your transformation?"

"I don't know."

The therapist looked at Opia oddly. She seemed suspicious of him for whatever reason.

"You don't remember what caused you to become an akuma?"

"Yeah. Not a clue. I was on a bridge, I was falling off the bridge, and then I woke up twenty five feet in the air."

"You remember being an akuma?"

"Yeah?"

She looked at her clipboard and frowned.

"Because of that, ma'am, and the fact that you do not seem upset by your actions, I am going to write you a referral to a psychiatrist. It is not required, but I do suggest going to at least one session of either that, or an akuma victims support group."

"Any thing else?" He sighed. He had been so tired lately. Once the therapist used 'ma'am,' any semblance of energy he had just seeped out of him.

The hospital held him overnight, to treat a concussion and bruised ribs. One of the lowest was nearly fractured, and the doctors claimed that, had he fallen or skidded just a bit harder, it would have shattered. They sent him off with a prescription pain medicine and a back brace in case it started hurting too much.

Neither Chat Noir nor Ladybug visited to apologize for all the hurt they put him through.

He gave the therapist his phone number, so that she could contact him about support groups, and left the hospital in a daze

* * *

The day was bright and sunny. There were middle schoolers playing around on a bridge, and his shoulders slumped as he walked passed them.

"Ms. Opia!" One of the kids called out. He turned and saw it was the artist kid from that class he was in for one day. He doubted he would go back, or even could, after the akuma incident.

The kid raced up to him with a worried expression.

"Are you ok? I heard you became an akuma."

"I'm fine, kid." He turned to continue on his way, but the guy followed him.

"I heard Hawkmoth changed your gender when you were an akuma. Are you sure you're alright?"

Opia stopped and took a deep breath. Nosey much? He turned slowly and gave the boy a smile.

"No, buddy, you've got it wrong. Hawkmoth got the right gender." He said smoothly, not breaking his smile. "It's everybody else whose got it all fucked up. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go home and rest because Chat Noir and Ladybug nearly broke my rib cage."

Without another word, he turned and continued walking. The kid didn't follow.

The streets bustled with afternoon activity. Some shopkeepers swept the outside of their stores, some people shared drinks and conversations. Opia headed for a small one bedroom apartment where his mother waited, probably ready to interrogate him on where he'd been.

He mentally prepared himself as he opened the door, cringing in anticipation of a shout, but none came.

He walked into a quiet apartment and set his stuff on the couch. The main room was split in half; one side for the tv and couch, the other for the small kitchen. There was a note on the kitchen table where he and his mother had shared many a rushed breakfasts before work and school.

He picked up the note and scanned it as he went to the fridge.

 _'Opia; whenever you get home, know that you are in big trouble for not telling me where you were. A call home never hurt anyone. I went out with some friends, and I should be back sometime in the early morning. Good news when I come back, if you're here!'_

Hisand his mother's health insurance was still under his father's name, so of course the hospital hadn't gotten in contact with his mom. Did they really call some dead-weight parent in Spain, though? That was the only number on his records. He really needed to get those updated.

He found a juice box in the back of the fridge, and after checking the expiration date (two days left) he popped the straw in and went to the couch.

Shoving his things aside, he turned on the small tv and laid back, relishing in fruit punch and infomercials.

He fell asleep while watching a man scream about apple slices.

* * *

He woke up when his mother came home, slightly drunk.

"Opia! There's my darling daughter!" His mother brightened when she saw him. She was a small woman, plump, with short brown hair (still growing back from her fight with cancer when he was only eight years old) and her eyes were a cold steel grey that, god, he wished he inherited instead of his father's hazel.

"I've got great news, sweetie! I got pruh-pre-promoted today! My salahry is gonna be increased ten percent!" She stumbled over her words in her drunken daze, but it did nothing to quell how excited she was.

"I'll be able to pay our bills sooner!"

He got up off the couch with a wince as his ribs still ached, but he smiled at her nonetheless.

"That's great mom. Um... But... How much is left over? Because the city pays for any damages left by Akumas, but usually that's more mental health work, and the patient still has to pay a percentage."

"Don't worry, sweetie, even if we get caught up in something like that, we'll be well off enough to pay for any five percent or wha-whatevur it is."

She began stumbling down the hall to her room and the bathroom, and Opia followed slowly, wrapping his arms around himself. His mom stopped suddenly and turned around as if remembering she had to do something.

"Wait, where were you? Y-you didn't come home last night."

"Mom, I was involved in an akuma attack."

"You better not be shitting me for attention, girl."

He flinched and shook his head.

"I was hospitalized for the night... I... Ladybug nearly shattered one of my ribs."

His mother studied him, trying to find any lies in his face, but she eventually came closer and lifted his shirt, to see the blue green bruise splattered across his lower ribs.

"I also had a concussion. We need to update the health insurance, because it's still under dad's name and I think that's who they called about me."

"That gringo wouldn't give two shits about what is happening to us. You're right. I'll sh-see what I can do tomorrow."

She let his shirt fall and dusted it off, then looked up at him with sad eyes.

"Are you ok, mija?"

"I'm... Really sore. I'll be ok, but I'm still a little dizzy and my ribs hurt when I move too much."

She nodded slowly, solemnly, then stood on her tip-toes and gave him a hard smack on his forehead.

"Ow-ow-ow!" He hissed, stumbling back a bit.

"That doesn't excuse you not calling! Hospitals have phones! You better make me dinner tomorrow to make up for all that stress you put me through! Now go to bed, it's three in the morning, you're keeping me up!"

"Mom, I've got a head injury!" He whined.

"Oh shush, I'm drunk!" She cackled and went off to brush her teeth and pass out in her room.

Opia chuckled a bit, and went back to the couch, which became a pullout bed for him. He moved the small table to the corner of the room and put his bed together, then checked the bathroom to see if it was free.

His mom was just stepping out, and he rushed in before she could change her mind.

He spent a solid five minutes flossing and brushing his teeth, then jumped in the shower to wash the hospital feel off of himself. He should've done it sooner, but he had just been so tired. He wasn't going to school in the morning, anyways.

* * *

His mom kept him from school until the next week. Given, she made him do shopping and cleaning around the house, but he didn't have to deal with school, so he was pretty happy.

When he did finally go back, people gave him odd looks, but it seemed like his disappearance had already left the gossip radar, and, for some reason, had its sights set on his lab partner.

Veronica Wilson was the daughter of a surgeon and a travel agent who was rarely home. But they had connections and were the type of people to get invited to cocktail parties with the prime minister of England.

Maybe he had a little jealously towards her, for having such a wealthy life style.

But from what he heard from her, when she talked to him during labs, was that her parents were pretty harsh. They followed the rule that children are things to be seen, not heard, and she suffered some sort of emotional damage from it. She didn't outright say it that way, but he picked it up in just the way she spoke. She was succinct, compelling, and could probably get into the world records book for being a human thesaurus.

She still irritated him to no end, though.

But that still didn't quell his curiosity of why everyone was whispering about her in the hallway.

So when the afternoon Chem lab came around, he sat down next to where she sat, face down on the desk. He thought she was asleep, until he reached out to wake her for class.

"I'm awake."

"That's a first." He tried to joke, but he got no response. There were three minutes until the bell rang, so he had time to ask.

"Are you ok? What happened?"

"You haven't heard?" She grumbled, not lifting her head from her arms.

"I generally avoid gossip cause I don't know what's real. And I was out the last few days due to turning into an akuma."

She shifted a bit, reached one hand out, and grabbed onto his wrist. It jolted him, since this was the first time she willingly touched him.

"You're... You're really not okay, are you?"

Her grip tightened for a moment, then she shook her head.

"Well... You can talk to me if you need to."

She turned her head to look at him through a curtain of her black hair. Her eyes were a cold ice blue, almost frosty like she was blind. But he had seen her read instructions from the board across the room, so he knew she didn't have any kind of hindered sight.

"My... Two days ago my parents were driving home from a business party for my mom. It... Was really stormy where they were driving through."

Opia remembered a night where there was moisture in the air, from a storm just on the outskirts of the city. He nodded as he remembered the taste of distant petrichor in the air.

"They... I called my mom to find out when they were coming home... They were distracted by something, an animal, maybe? All I heard was my mom screaming and shattering glass."

She looked to the side, at the edge of the desk, and she pulled his wrist a little closer. She looked so worn out.

"They're dead."

The bell rang as the rest of the class took their seats, and Veronica let go of his wrist, turning back face down on the desk.

Opia sat in shock of the news. He should watch the news more often.

Class went on, but as students started getting ready for the lab - seeing how different chemical flames looked through Cobalt glass - the teacher came to their table and sat on the edge. Opia looked up at her quizzically, but she lust looked sad.

"Veronica, you are allowed to not do this lab, if you don't feel up to it."

She shook her head and didn't move, so the teacher turned to Opia.

"Since it's not safe to do it alone, you can join another group, but I know you had a bad incident not long ago, so I won't dock points if you sit this one out."

"... I'll stay with Veronica, Ms. Fuentes. " He gently rested his fingers against Veronica's wrist and she seemed to relax just a bit.

Ms. Fuentes nodded and went to her desk.

Opia had a lot of makeup work to finish before the next day, so he pulled out some Calc work and went at it. Occasionally, he would give Veronica a gentle pat on the back when he heard her quiet breaths speed up, and she would slowly relax ever so slightly.

About midway through class, though, they had a disruption.

The door opened just enough for the man to peek his head in, and Ms. Fuentes stood up at the sight of him.

Gabriel Agreste rarely left his office. Even for his own son. For him to come to a high school was even stranger than seeing him off screen.

He talked quietly to Ms. Fuentes, then made his way over to him and Veronica, who had looked up just the slightest bit.

"Ms. Wilson, I wished to give you my condolences." Opia tensed. He knew that voice from somewhere. Mr. Agreste sounded different than he did on TV. His voice was slightly deeper, more pronounced.

"I apologize, I will not be able to make it to the funeral on Friday."

Veronica nodded and rubbed her right eye.

"It's... Not your fault, Mr. Agreste."

"It was my party they attended. Had they not been there, this all would not have happened."

Opia openly stared at the man. He knew that voice. He _knew it_. But he couldn't place it.

"Young man, it's not polite to stare."

Opia blinked and looked around, but all the other students were working and not looking their way. He looked back at the man and cleared his throat.

"M-me?"

"Yes, you." He rolled his eyes. Opia never thought men like him rolled their eyes. He also never thought men like him would refer to him as a man. The only other person to do so so easily was...

His eyes went wide with recognition as he sat up straight. Veronica gave him a snort of laughter before falling silent again.

"S-sorry sir, I just- you just..." He was back to staring, but this time in awe. "Never thought I'd see you so close..."

Gabriel Agreste narrowed his eyes at Opia, but dropped it and returned to his conversation with Veronica. After he apologized for her loss again, he said his goodbyes with barely a second glance at him and left. Veronica turned just a bit so she could face him more easily.

"You're a good guy, Opia."

"W-what?" This was all a bit too much. "Really?" He wasn't asking about him being a good person, and Veronica seemed to know that.

"You're just too quiet when you correct people. You should practice speaking from your gut instead of your chest. It'll make your voice deeper too."

"O-oh, thanks. That's... Actually helpful." He sat in shock for a moment, then furrowed his brows and turned to her fully. "Um... Would you..."

"I'm leaving to England right after the funeral." She interrupted, once again catching him off guard.

"England?" He scrunched his nose in distaste.

"My aunt lives there. She's my last living family member. All week I'm booked with lawyer visits and people sending condolences."

He looked down and tightened his right hand into a fist.

"Well... I hope you have fun with your aunt."

"I doubt it. It always rains there. The school is nothing like this one. There aren't cool fashion designers interrupting my classes." The last comment was supposed to be sarcastic, but Veronica's way of speaking was so monotonous, she sounded as if Gabriel Agreste interrupted her classes everyday.

Opia snorted, and she looked a bit grateful that he had gotten that it was a joke.

"I... I probably won't be coming to school the rest of the week. If I don't see you again, I want to tell you that I am grateful for you always listening to me."

"Ah, don't thank me yet. Half the time I was listening to music."

She looked offended as he looked back at her with a wide smirk, and winked. She blinked out of the scowl she had been wearing, turning more into shock, then huffed a laugh and looked back at the desk.

"You... Are a good guy. But Opia, don't let anyone take advantage of you for it. There are... Terrible things in the world. There's good too, but you'll hear about the bad far more." She reached out and rested her hand on his shoulder. Her grip was a lot stronger than he had anticipated. She leveled a strong glare at him that made his blood run cold. He never thought she could look anything like this.

"I will do what I can to fix injustices, but it takes time. In the meantime, Opia, do what you need to in order to survive. The strong leave the weak in the dust. Do you want to be choked out, or do you want to breathe easy and fly free?"

She gave his shoulder a tight squeeze, then picked up her things and left the room with a quick wave at their teacher. The woman nodded in understanding as she bustled out, leaving Opia in a bit a of a trance state.

Whether she did it on purpose or not, Opia would never find out. She would be long gone by the time he would get the chance to go visit her. But her words had him remembering wind in his hair and armor on his skin, and the smell of the air as it filled his lungs fully for the first time he could properly remember.


End file.
